


Simmer

by AlamoGirl80



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-16
Updated: 2010-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-14 18:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlamoGirl80/pseuds/AlamoGirl80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Patrick Jane beats her to a crime scene, Lisbon knows this isn't going to be pretty. Post-ep to "Red Hot"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simmer

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I adore Mashburn. I'm saying that upfront. And I wanted to pick up after the glorious end to "Red Hot," and see what Jane might do with an after-glowing Lisbon. I hope I kept Lisbon as strong, and beautifully self assured as she seemed when she left Mashburn's hotel. This is dedicated to Hardly Loquacious for her endless help meta-ing and betaing all things The Mentalist.
> 
> Set directly after "Red Hot."

She's pleased to see her team coordinating the local PD, cordoning off the crime scene in bright yellow tape and wrangling who she assumes are witnesses into groups for questioning.

Cho is nowhere to be seen, presumably already knocking on doors in the small community. Rigsby is looming over the ME, jotting down notes as the doctor carefully turns the body over. White male, balding, suit and jacket. Briefcase strewn to the side. Probably someone who knew the right "someones" high up the justice department food chain in order to get the CBI called in.

As Lisbon parks her car and gets out, she sees something odd about the body. The guy's neck is bent at a gruesome angle. Almost cartoonishly twisted backward.

She grimaces. Nice. The perp couldn't just settle for a plain old bullet to the chest. No. That's way too boring.

It dawns on her – as Van Pelt spots her and waves for her attention – that she's late. Very late. She nods at the rookie before slowing her pace. They've probably been wondering where she was. Lisbon is usually the first one on the scene, sometimes the first in the office in the morning. And now, here she is, wandering in like some, well, like some rookie who got lost on the way to a crime scene.

Shoving her hands in her pockets, Lisbon's determined not to let her tardiness affect her. If any one asks, she got stuck in traffic. That's all. Not like it's any of there business where she was…or _who_ she was doing.

A fraction of a smirk pulls at her lips at the thought of Mashburn, sprawled like a lazy cat, sated and happy in that king sized bed at the hotel. Such a cad. An arrogant, charming, self absorbed but _very_ _talented_ cad. Had to give him credit, he was surprisingly…agile… for a man of his size. She was sore in places that hadn't been sore in an embarrassingly long time.

The smirk melts off her face when she catches sight of something. The bottom of her stomach does an uncomfortable flip flop.

Parked on the opposite side of the street is that little blue Skittle of a car, the one belonging to the other arrogant, self-absorbed cad in her life: Patrick Jane. He'd beaten her to the crime scene. The man who ambles in, sometimes just before the coroner wheels off the body, casually stating that "life is a journey" (read: the case can wait for me, because I'm _that_ good), actually _beat_ her to a crime scene.

Oh hell. This isn't going to be pretty.

 _Best put your head down and keep moving_ , Lisbon thinks, as she furtively glances around before making a bee-line to Van Pelt.

"Boss!" the younger agent calls, with a wide smile. "You made it. We were wondering…"

Lisbon gives a perfunctory smile. "Traffic. What've we got?"

Van Pelt only blinks, before going into the much practiced spiel of reading her boss the particulars of the crime scene. "Victim's name is Edward Reichenbach, 55, accountant. Costa Mesa PD says he worked for Mason, Lowry and Wolf law firm."

"One of the biggest, high profile law firms in Orange County. Now I know why we were called in." Lisbon says, as they make their way to Rigsby. The coroner is busy putting the late Mr. Reichenbach in a body bag.

"Coroner puts time of death around 2 am this morning. His neck was broken in two places." Rigsby points to the protruding bones under the skin of the corpse's neck, and Lisbon winces.

"Ouch." she mutters, dryly.

Rigsby nods, "No kidding. A person has to be pretty strong and have some skills to snap a neck like that. Ex military maybe."

"Or law enforcement," Van Pelt supplies. Rigsby gives her a goofy grin in agreement and Lisbon suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

"Okay, let's not broadcast that around too much, guys. Costa Mesa PD is small and likely close-knit, so we don't want to alienate them by implying that we might think local law enforcement did this. Yet."

Rigsby and Van Pelt know that Lisbon doesn't hold back when looking for suspects, even if it means looking at her fellow cops. Rigsby goes on to tell her that Reichenbach had no rap sheet, not even a parking ticket. About as mild mannered as they come.

Lisbon listens, but she's starting to feel a little antsy. Her 'walking headache' hasn't shown himself yet, and she's starting to worry. He's been showing improvement lately, deigning to come down from his bat cave more, taking up residence on his couch again. And at least feigning more interest in cases. Even if he'd rather "nap for all the little guys" most of the time.

Good thing Walter showed up, recapturing Jane's interest. And hers too. _Stop that, Teresa. Head in the game!_ She mentally slaps herself. Her wandering mind keeps returning to the billionaire with the dimples, the champagne and the…

A sigh. "Okay, you and Van Pelt go talk to his bosses at Mason, Lowry and whatever the other name was…"

"Wolf." They say in unison.

"Right. Whatever." She shakes her head, waving them off. "Go there and see if Reichenbach had any enemies in the firm. Maybe he miss-filed their taxes or something."

"On it," smiles Van Pelt.

Lisbon stops them, "Wait, did Cho learn anything canvassing the area?" She hated being behind on the status of the information coming in. For all she knew Cho had already relayed any information to the others before she'd arrived. That's what she gets for letting Walter join her in the shower…

"Not much, boss." Cho appears at her side, making her turn a little too quickly. He doesn't seem to notice. "The neighbors heard some shouting, but just figured it was teenagers or a domestic disturbance. Everyone around here pretty much has a "hear no evil, see no evil" motto."

Lisbon mutters, "Figures. Small neighborhood, yet everyone conveniently goes blind."

"Costa Mesa's police chief is waiting to speak to you. Seems he didn't know Reichenbach's law firm would be calling in extra help." Cho tells her.

"Course he is. I don't suppose you told him that we don't help, we take over."

"Nah, was waiting for you." As they head in the direction of the police chief, Cho looks at her sideways, then straight ahead again. "What took you so long?"

Lisbon glances at him before answering smoothly. "Caught in traffic. Why?"

Her second in command 'hmms' to himself. "Nothing. I didn't hit any traffic on the way down here."

"Lucky you."

"Called you cell phone earlier this morning too, when you didn't show up at the office. You didn't answer." He says. Absolutely no inflection in his tone. He could have been reading her the menu at McDonalds for all he cared.

Lisbon, however, swallowed. "Must have had it on vibrate."

"Liar." A new voice appears behind her.

Lisbon's eyes widen for a split second as she senses more than sees her elusive consultant sidle up beside her. She stops and turns to him, glare firmly in place. What the hell was up with everyone sneaking up on her today?

Patrick Jane stands beside her, dazzling smile stretching lazily across his face, slightly rumpled vest, sans jacket, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. It only takes a moment, looking into his handsome, smart-ass face for her to realize: He knows.

How he knows that she spent that night with Walter Mashburn is irrelevant. Maybe she still has some 'after-glow' lingering on her somewhere. The real question is, what is he going to do with this precious piece of information?

She looks to Cho, whether for help or to tell him to scram, she doesn't know. He only raises his hands, says, "Not my business," and scoots away.

Whatever Jane's intentions are, Lisbon knows his first order of business is to lord his knowledge of her sex life over her. But she isn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she hates this. Every bit of it.

Jane has a nasty habit of using knowledge against people, and she has a hard enough time cracking her emotional doors and letting him peek inside as it is.

Crossing her arms protectively, hoping that since the chief of police is heading their way, Jane might take a hint and leave it alone. "I'm not lying," she says coolly.

Jane leans in, and Lisbon frowns and pulls away. He actually sniffed her! "Oh, yes you are. You were in the shower when Cho first called." Lisbon watches as her consultant critically, the sunny smile gone. "And…I don't think you were alone, either."

Inside, Lisbon's well of anger turns up the heat to a nice simmer. She forces herself not to drop her mouth open in outrage, but she can feel the line between her brows deepening.

Just then, the police chief for Costa Mesa PD, Muller, saves her, and she goes through the formalities of taking over a case from the locals. The man isn't happy about having a potentially well publicized murder case yanked out from underneath him, but at least he pretends to be civil.

Well, at least until Jane insults him. Calls him an adulterer, to be exact. Something about the way the Chief Muller dressed in a hurry or has lipstick on his collar and a wedding ring. Lisbon doesn't care. When the man steps forward, presumably to grab Jane round the neck, Lisbon's consultant skitters behind her.

She could make excuses for Jane's behavior, like always, but Lisbon doesn't feel like wasting time this morning, so she just tells Muller that Jane forgot his medication this morning – "Don't worry, I'll find his muzzle later" – and walks away. If he complains to Hightower, so be it. She'll make her excuses then.

Jane's waiting for her, out of punching range, and the smug bastard has a smirk on his face. Lisbon walks right past him and on to her car. She's not surprised when she hears Jane jogging to catch up.

"What? No reprimand? No pleas for me to behave?" He asks. He actually looks a little surprised.

"Nope. You want to piss off Chief Muller just because you can, go ahead. I'd love to see him punch you in the face."

Jane huffs, pretending to be put out. "Oh c'mon, Lisbon. You wouldn't let him do that."

"Oh, trust me, Jane," she says, smiling benignly, "I would."

"Such a good mood this morning," Jane wonders aloud. "I guess the champagne and strawberries really worked like a charm."

He's taken the gloves off early, Lisbon thinks. Going right for the big red "hazard" button first. She knows Jane came to see Mashburn after the case, and being the brilliant, nosy sonfoabitch he is, she figures he saw their room service tray and made the not-so-hard intellectual leap. She also knows Mashburn could have told Jane that she was there, in the bathroom freshening up, but he didn't.

And that made Mr. Walter Mashburn rise considerably in her estimates, when he informed her that Jane had come by, and no, he didn't mention who his companion was for the evening.

Keeping her face straight ahead, she replies, "You want another sore nose, Jane? Keep it up."

Jane's mouth clamps shut, his demeanor stiffening. She's seen it happen before, when she's shut him down one too many times, and when something else is really bugging him.

"Right. Gotchya." His tone is clipped. "To Edward's house to talk to his wife, I presume?"

"Yep."

Jane veers quickly toward his Citroën. "I'll follow you."

Lisbon pulls herself into her SUV, not breaking her stride. "You do that."

Lisbon knows Jane pretty well by now too. And while he hides behind that mask of nonchalance and amusement, she knows he wasn't expecting her to actually enjoy Mashburn's attention. His little toupee incident was her first clue.

He'd done it for attention, plain and simple. Some of his antics have an underlying reason. As in, he has a theory and wants to test it out by the most unorthodox means possible. Sometimes it's just because the case or the suspect has frustrated him. Sometimes he's got other things on his mind, like Red John, so even his most basic awareness of regulations goes completely out the window.

But none of those apply to him stealing the toupee from Yuri Bajoran's mansion. Jane did it, knowing Lisbon would hear from Yuri's wife or house keeper and come find him on his couch to fuss at him. Maybe he felt like Mashburn was stealing his spotlight.

As she drives, Jane and his blue Skittle in her rear-view mirror, Lisbon smiles a little at the thought of Jane vying for her attention in the only way he knows how. Almost endearing, that is.

 _Not so endearing_ when he later pokes Chief Muller in front of members of his own squad, though. Yet another attempt to get Lisbon to play his game.

Well, this is attention-seeking behavior is rapidly becoming less and less cute, and more and more annoying. The jabs about her and Mashburn were starting to get a little sharp, and Lisbon wonders how much of this is Jane's juvenile attempt at getting her attention and more just plain old envy rearing its ugly head.

She'll know how deep this ran if Jane decides to take this little tête-à-tête of theirs public, making comments in front of the team. If he does, she might have to seriously consider killing him. For now, she's going to play it cool. Jane doesn't get the upper hand this time.

This is her _private_ life.

* * *

Jane is remarkably subdued during the interview with the widow. Reichenbach was a quiet guy, loved by all, no enemies whatsoever. Lisbon hears that too many times from the loving spouse to believe it. Problem is, people are capable of doing anything to anyone. Lisbon learned that a long time ago. Mrs. Reichenbach did admit that her husband had been preoccupied with work, some numbers not adding up, but that was it.

Jane tells her that he has some errands to run and putt-putts off in his blue contraption, while Lisbon heads back to Sacramento. It's a 6 hour dive and she's glad to be free of Jane's prying.

Back at the office, she meets up with the rest of the team to compare notes. The law firm confirmed that Reichenbach was a model accountant, helping them on some of their high priority cases. He was in charge of case expense accounts, and his last assignment was for the Heisenberg case. Carl Heisenberg charged with felony drug charges, after being arrested having a large amount of cocaine on his person during a domestic dispute call out. Riechenbach discovered some numbers that didn't add up with where the payments for Heisenberg's defense were coming from.

Jane wanders in from locations unknown, and declares that they needed to go to prison to visit Carl Heisenberg. After doing so, all Lisbon has is a headache from listening to the man's protests that he's been set up by Costa Mesa PD and little else.

Her headaches usually come from a different source, but Jane has kept his distance from Lisbon, except for the work related conversations and the occasional offer for coffee. She figures that maybe he has a theory about who killed Reichenbach, but as usual, he's holding all his cards for the final reveal. Doesn't want to spoil the flourish of pulling the curtain back and saying, "tah-dah!" She assumes it's the showman in him.

Meanwhile, Lisbon has been following the paper trail Riechenbach left for them. She had a hunch that the motive for his murder hinged on his last case. The account paying for Heisenberg's defense was an offshore shell account that, no surprise, wasn't under Heisenberg's name. She has Van Pelt slogging through the virtual back alleys, trying to vet out the source.

It didn't make much sense that the money sued to pay for his defense was being routed from an account that wasn't in his name. Carl didn't have many friends in his file, and most of his business associates didn't like dealing with him. She flipped through file after file on Carl's life and associates, looking for a connection to the dead accountant. But other than Reichenbach crunching the numbers from his case, he and Carl never crossed paths.

Lisbon also reads the transcripts of the court during the case. Mason, Lowry and Wolf have top notch defense attorneys, and Heisenberg, thanks to his wealthy wife, could afford them. But he wasn't getting his money's worth. A first year law student could poke holes in Heisenberg's lawyer's half-assed defense.

Lisbon tries talking to Chief Muller, who maintains that Heisenberg is a mean sonofbitch who likes to beat his wife. She considers this story, but the non-drug related history on Heisenberg's rap sheet troubled Lisbon. Why would he all of a sudden have a kilo of coke on him?

She decides to take Rigsby and head back down to Costa Mesa to have a little chat with Heisenberg's wife.

"You'll want to call Chief Muller too," Jane says cheerfully, settling into the seat behind Lisbon in the SUV.

"Why?" She asks, looking back at him.

"Oh…just a hunch. Might be neighborly to let him in on the investigation's progress."

" _Jaaane_ ," Lisbon says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Out with it."

"Trust me, Lisbon," Jane wheedled. He leans forward and squeezes her shoulder for emphasis. It's the closest he'd gotten to her physically in days.

Lisbon flinches under his touch involuntarily, and then shrugs off his grasp. "Yeah, I trusted you last time with Judge Fitz-Williams' case, and look what that got me. Total embarrassment plus an ass-chewing from Hightower." She takes note that Jane's face has fallen, remembering his last fiasco. "Sorry Jane, trusting you means I can look forward to the rug being pulled out from under me."

Jane looks down at her armrest and mutters dejectedly, "You fail to notice that I'm always there to catch you, though."

Lisbon chews her lip, choosing to ignore his words. No sense in reminding him that Jane usually catches her on pure luck. Coming back to fix his screw-ups later doesn't count. Pulling out her cell she punches in the numbers for Costa Mesa PD and asks that Chief Muller meet them the Heisenberg house.

Jane immediately brightens, and when she's through with the call, he makes sure to catch her eye before saying, "Thank you, Lisbon. You won't regret this."

Rolls her eyes and thinks, _Yeah. Sure. Where've I heard that before…  
_

* * *

 _  
_

Caitlin Heisenberg is surprised to see the CBI on her doorstep, asking questions about the funding for her husband, Carl's, defense. Lisbon also notices that Chief Muller seems to be trying to hide his agitation. Fidgeting with his hands, shifting his weight.

Of course Jane notices. He points it out to the world when he tries to settle the Chief by offering him a glass of water.

Jane tries to lay a hand on the Chief's forearm, probably assessing his heart rate, and the older man bristles. "Keep your hands off of me, you crackpot."

Wisely Jane backs away, but Lisbon can tell from the grin on his face, he's only just beginning "the game."

They are seated in the outside garden; Caitlin has poured tea, which delights Jane no end. He's always ready to try someone's new blend, and if it's improperly prepared, he'll let them know. Lisbon is seated across from the wife on the perfect white, wicker seats in her perfectly groomed garden. Jane lounges next to Lisbon, sipping his tea eyes flicking back and forth between Mrs. Heisenberg and Chief Muller. Muller has taken up post behind Caitlin, still fidgeting and never taking his eyes off her.

Rigsby towers behind Lisbon, sampling a couple of the cookies brought out with the tea. The little posy-covered tea cup dwarfed in Rigsby's hand looks like a toy, though he tries to be unobtrusive, sipping his tea and munching a chocolate macadamia nut crisp.

"Mrs. Heisenberg," Lisbon says, refusing the proffered tea cup. "Can you tell me why your husband's defense is being paid by an off shore shell account?"

"What do you mean, "shell" account? I assumed the account I was transferring funds from was from my husband's yacht business in the islands," Caitlin says, shocked.

"The account tracking numbers bounce around from the Caymans to Switzerland and back again, ma'am. At the very least, you husband's name would be somewhere on them if it was a legit business."

Caitlin's hand ever so slightly quivers as she places the cup back on her saucer, clanking it.

Beside her, Lisbon can see Jane's Cheshire cat grin grow.

"I…I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Agent Lisbon." She smooths her perfectly fitting skirt. "My husband was in charge of all the accounts. I just used the account number he told me to use when paying for his legal services."

Lisbon isn't buying this for a second. "You had no idea what he was doing with _your_ money?"

"Marriage is about trust, Agent. You share everything, your processions, money, your life." Lisbon can see the older woman puff herself up, so that she could look down her nose. "I can see you aren't married. How could you understand?"

Lisbon sits back and sighs. It's not the first time a stick has been poked in that old wound. Doesn't mean it doesn't still sting a little. She practically has a sign over her head that reads "married to the job."

But before she can reply, Jane has leaned closer toward her, gesturing toward Mrs. Heisenberg, his tone taking the attention off Lisbon.

"Agent Lisbon knows a hellova lot more about trust than a conniving old bat such as yourself," he says, gesturing to Caitlin with his cup.

The older woman is gobsmacked, opening her mouth in outrage, cheeks flushed, but Jane's heading into his stride now. There's no stopping him.

"Oh admit it. Carl was a mean bastard but at least he was faithful. You've been having an affair for years now, haven't you?"

"How dare you! How dare you come into my house and –"

Jane stands now, rising to his full height and squaring his shoulders. "We're the CBI, lady, that's how we dare!"

He's laying it on thick. Lisbon tries to hide her smirk. But Chief Muller has stepped forward now. "You watch your tone, mister." He growls. "This woman has been a victim of spousal abuse."

"Meh," Jane waves it off. "That's just what she's been telling you. And you believed her because you've wanted to spice up your life for a long time. But you're a coward and couldn't leave your own poor wife. So you sneak around with Caitlin, because, let's face it, she's rich. And you'd like a slice of the good life."

Caitlin turns to Lisbon. "I have never been so insulted! I have friends at the Attorney General's office, you know! One phone call..."

"Please," Jane scoffs. "Like we haven't heard that before. Call your friends, I dare yo – OW!"

Lisbon's had quite enough calls from the Deputy AG asking her to reign in her stupid consultant. She reminds Jane of this by a swift kick to his shin. Behind her, she can hear Rigsby choking on his macadamia crisp.

While Jane looks at Lisbon like a toddler with a boo-boo, she stands and confronts Chief Muller. "Is he right? Have you been having an affair with her?"

"I don't have to answer that," the Chief says. But his body language says it all – crossing his arms, the beads of sweat forming on his balding head.

"Yes, and she," Jane points to Caitlin, while sitting down and rubbing his shin pathetically, "wanted her husband gone. So she got the Chief here to plant some evidence or something, anything to get Carl in jail for along time."

"But I'm paying for his defense, you idiot," screeches Caitlin. "Why would I pay to defend him if I really wanted him in jail?"

Just then, a text comes in on Lisbon's phone from Van Pelt. After reading it, Lisbon smiles, hooking her thumbs in her jeans confidently. "We just tracked down a name on the shell account used to pay for your husband's shoddy defense." She looks to Chief Muller and cocks her head, "It's under your wife's maiden name, Chief. Why is that?"

The Chief blanches, and looks at Caitlin, who seems to have turned to stone.

"Because she couldn't have Carl getting out anytime soon. My bet is she's got someone on the inside in that ritzy law firm doing her some favors. Riechenbach, the accountant, found out about all of this, traced the money and found the name hidden on the account." Jane says.

Muller leans down to Caitlin. "Why'd you set the account up in my wife's name, Cat? You knew it would lead them straight–"

"Yes, straight back to _you_." She says with disgust. "You didn't really think that after you killed that accountant that I'd go down with you?"

Muller looks like he's going to throw up.

Lisbon supplies the rest. "You didn't want the money for the crappy counsel traced back to you either, in case Carl ever got out. So you sweet-talk Muller, here, into taking care of the nosy accountant, and then changed the name on the account so if anyone looks closely enough, it seems like Muller's behind everything."

"No one would believe I had the money to pay for that law firm." Muller stutters.

Lisbon shakes her head. "We looked into the account records. Mrs. Heisenberg was thorough. She moved just enough money into the account that it would pay for what was needed, but could easily come from one of your retirement funds, sir. You've been on the job for a while, right? Close to retirement any day now?"

"Everyone at the station probably knows that it was Muller who answered every domestic disturbance call between you and Carl. Some yelling, throw a glass or two, but Carl never hit you. You faked all of that to play damsel in distress to Chief Muller's hero complex." Jane grins. "And he bought all of it. You should have just shot him." He says to the shell-shocked police chief. "Nearly twisting his head off? That narrowed it down too much. I imagine you're ex military too."

Muller's shaking now, pasty and sweating. Jane's basking in the glow of his brilliance, but Rigsby has to know. Talking around the cookie in his mouth, he asks, "How'd you know it was Caitlin he was having an affair with?"

Jane gestures with a flourish. "The lipstick on his collar. I saw pictures of Carl and Caitlin in Carl's file, and it was that same exact shade. Not to mention the perfume I smelled on the Chief when we met him at the crime scene. _Ode de Naughty_ perhaps? Mrs. Heisenberg wears the same fragrance."

Lisbon adds, "You covered your tracks beautifully, Mrs. Heisenberg. We might not have been able to solidly tie you to the account, if–"

"– If you hadn't spilled the beans," Jane finished, rocking back on his heels, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Caitlin Heisenberg's cheeks redden again, her mouth crushed into a thin line of fury. Steam should be rising from the top of her head, Lisbon thinks. Jane has that effect on people.

Lisbon's already reaching around to retrieve her cuffs, when Muller suddenly bolts like a frightened deer, bounding over Caitlin's pretty white lawn furniture.

"Uh-oh," Rigsby grunts. Tea cups and cookies go flying.

"Running? Really?" Lisbon moans, before tearing off.

"Sick-em Lisbon!" Jane calls, taking another sip of tea.

Caitlin Heisenberg remains dignified as a statue staring off after her ex lover in disgust.

Rigsby's gaining ground, causing Muller to veer right. Lisbon bolts around the topiary, cutting Muller off. Just as he rounds a hedge, Lisbon uses a cement bench to launch into the air and tackle Muller to the ground, just as Rigsby comes puffing up, gun drawn.

As other uniformed officers, the backup Van Pelt has called, swarm into the garden area, Jane relaxes on the settee; a tea cup in hand and a satisfied smile lighting up his face.

* * *

Standing by her SUV, Lisbon finishes relaying the information of the capture and arrest to Cho. There will be mountains of paperwork. Any time you arrest law enforcement, you have an extra headache dealing with Internal Affairs, who wants everything in triplicate. She has a long night ahead of her.

Jane shows up beside her, leaning on the front of her car. They watch Caitlin Heisenberg and Chief Muller trundled off into awaiting squad cars.

"See what happens when you trust me? Justice." Jane says confidently.

Lisbon smirks. "Yeah. Maybe 80 percent of the time."

Jane frowns. "I have much better odds than that."

Her cell phone rings. When she sees the name on the screen, Lisbon can't help the slow, warm grin spreading across her face. Glancing up at Jane just before she moves away to answer, she sees something indefinable pass across his features.

"Lisbon."

" _You miss me don't you? It's okay to admit it. It's not gonna damage your Dirty Harry image."_

A chuckle. "Walter. Aren't you supposed to be stuck in meetings?"

She hears the smile in his voice. _"I was. But it's 3am here. You can't expect me to be a good little business boy at this hour."_

Lisbon figures that if Mashburn is still up at 3am, being a _good boy_ is the last thing he's been. But she doesn't let it bother her. She knows exactly what Walter Mashburn is all about, and what she's gotten into sleeping with him.

"I can imagine what sort of business you conduct at that late hour." There is no malice in her voice, but Walter must hear something because his tone sobers immediately.

" _I was up finishing my contracts for the take-over, Teresa. I swear."_

"Geeze, Walter. I'm not your mother. You don't have to account for you whereabouts or have an alibi."

" _But I like it when you think I'm a suspect. It gets me all of your undivided attention."_ He coos. _"Really, it's been far too boring here."_

"Well I'm so sorry you can't find anything in all of Europe to entertain you."

" _You on a case?"_

"Just finished it up." She says.

" _Ah, must not've been too difficult, solving it in two days,"_ Walter's inflection means he's angling for something. What, Lisbon isn't sure.

"Sometimes we catch a break. Either that or Jane's plans don't go too haywire," she answers lightly. "I choose to believe someone up there has taken pity on me when Jane is relatively well-behaved."

Walter makes a non-committal noise _. "Ah, yes. I'm sure Patrick is very careful when it comes to knowing just how far to push you, Teresa."_

Lisbon pulls the phone away from her head, looking at it as though Walter has just spoken to her in Martian. "Uh, hello? This is Patrick Jane you're talking about, you know. Have you met him?"

She glances over her shoulder as she says it to find the subject of this impromptu conversation staring at her, his feature coolly blank. She moves farther away.

" _Oh, please, Teresa,"_ Walter scoffs _. "Jane knows how to play the game and have a good time, but he cares about you. You know that, right?"_

How in the hell did they get onto this discussion? They should be making quiet references to the stellar sex they had the last night they saw each other (and again that morning for that matter). Not talking about whether or not Jane cares about her!

Lisbon shakes her head as thought trying to dislodge some sense out of Mashburn's weird train of thought. "Um…okay. So, did you call me to talk about _Jane_ or what? Cause, I can give you his cell number if you really want to talk to _him_ …"

" _Don't get testy, Teresa. I'm just stating a simple fact. Deny it all you want, but Jane likes you. Quite a lot, actually."_

Lisbon frowns at the phone, completely lost.

She hears Walter's grin in his voice _. "Did you tell him about you and me?"_

"What? No! It isn't his business. You…we…that's private."

" _Doesn't really matter, I guess. He already knows."_ Walter sounds like he's lying back, stretching out in his cat-like way, completely comfortable making her as uncomfortable as possible. _"When he realized I had company for the night – and yes Teresa, he knew by the way I was guarding the bedroom that it was YOU back there – he nearly bolted out of the room."_

"Walter. Why are you telling me this?" Lisbon's tired again.

" _Really. Couldn't get out of there fast enough."_

"Walter!" She's pinching the bridge of her nose.

Walter seems to take notice of her tone and cuts to whatever point he was taking the long way to get to _. "He's jealous, my dear."_

Her brows furrow. "Walter, are you _high_? Why are you going on about something so ridiculous?"

" _It's not ridiculous to think that another man could be jealous of your attention, Teresa. You are, in fact, a very enticing woman."_ Mashburn's tone is as serious as when he admitted that he could very easily be a murderer. It sends a chill up Lisbon's spine for entirely different reasons this time. _"And Patrick is an important man in your life. He's used to having you to himself, I imagine. I know I'd feel the same way."_

Lisbon's glaring off into the middle distance, but she manages to find her voice. "Jealous?"

" _Let me guess, he's already been pushing your buttons today, little snide remarks about us, right?"_

She doesn't have to answer.

Walter Mashburn lets out a bark of laughter. _"I knew it! I could see it all over his face."_

"Look, whatever, Walter. Maybe Jane acted a little juvenile during your case, but that's not uncommon. He's pretty damn good at impersonating a 12 year old most days. Kinda like another guy I know." She lets the implication hang, and can't help but smile at Walter's laughter.

" _Hey, you must not mind too much, if you keep us both around."_

"Him, I haven't got a choice." She grins evilly. "You, on the other hand…"

Walter gasps dramatically. _"I'm hurt, Teresa. Really. Hey, maybe I can come help you on other cases when I get back in town. I'm a pretty good detective, you know."_

This time, Lisbon laughs. She also notices that Jane has ambled closer again, his expression something between curiosity and disapproval. "Not gonna happen, Walter. I have my plate full of crazy these days."

" _Speaking of which, be sure and tell Patrick 'Hi' for me."_

She's eyeing Jane suspiciously, and she almost misses Walter's quiet, _"I miss you."_

Grinning, she ducks her head and mutters, "Me too," before hanging up.

By now, Jane is standing at her side, pretending to be interested in the cop cars milling around, hands clasped behind his back. She eyes him from under her lashes, aware that he probably heard most of her conversation with Mashburn. It's what Mashburn said to her that has her stomach doing funny little skips. Could Patrick Jane really be jealous of another crackpot in her life?

Jane cuts his blue-green eyes toward her, before returning them to the herd of police cruisers. "So."

"So." She replies evenly.

"How's Walter?"

A nod. "Fine. He says 'hi' by the way."

Jane 'hmm's. "Is he coming home soon?"

"No idea." She says.

They start making their way to the SVU. Jane's watching her, but Lisbon keeps a serene expression.

Once in the car, Lisbon in the driver's seat and Jane in the passenger side, her consultant sits back to regard his boss carefully.

Lisbon smirks. "What?"

"You miss that arrogant pirate, don't you?" He asks. There is an edge to his question, but Lisbon's enjoying this too much to be bothered, yet. Besides, they're alone for now, at least. Rigsby is still wrapping things up with Costa Mesa PD.

"I thought you liked Walter," she stalls.

Jane waggles a finger. "Pirate was your word for him."

It suddenly fascinates Lisbon that Jane seems to remember, word for word, everything that went on between the two of them and Mashburn in their first encounter over a year ago. But then, it could just be Jane's penchant for having a huge memory palace.

"You like him." He states.

"Yes." She replies, watching him.

She continues to hold his gaze, a silent dare for him admit something, break eye contact first. Admit that he doesn't like the idea of Mashburn getting her attention. She's not stupid enough to believe that Jane is envious for romantic reasons. Walter is right: Jane is used to being the alpha male in her life, and he doesn't like to share his toys. She saw evidence of _that_ with Bosco.

But this. This is wholly different. Walter Mashburn not only waltzes in and frustrates her during a case, but he also makes her laugh. He infuriates her with his arrogance, but he tends to be right a lot of the time. He says exactly what he means, and is quite intuitive. He's brash, stubborn, entitled, and likes being the richest, if not smartest guy in the room. But he also likes to have a good time, and has a no strings attached policy.

Walter Mashburn is a man she decides to sleep with after a case, and _that_ puts her and Jane in uncharted territory. Walter is also irritatingly similar to Jane in many ways, so maybe it really does come down to Jane not wanting to be "second-best" in Lisbon's life.

Lisbon hasn't realized that she broke eye contact first, until Jane leans forward and touches her hand.

"I'm happy for you, Lisbon. Truly, I am." He's smiling, but it's in stark contrast to the sadness in his eyes.

Something catches in her chest. She tries to shake it off and attempts a half smile. "Easy now. We aren't picking out china or anything. Hell, I may never see him again."

Jane looks unconvinced. "Walter Mashburn's not about to let a prize like you go." He's still staring at her, boring holes into her being.

This casual statement sends Lisbon's stomach into a slam-dance, and she shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Clearing her throat, she huffs, "Where the hell is Rigsby?"

"Oh, I meant to tell you, he's stuck finishing the statements. Said he'd rent a car to take back." Jane's smile is blinding when she looks at him skeptically.

On cue, Lisbon's cell rings. Rigsby explains via speaker phone, that the Costa Mesa PD is giving him hell about their chief being arrested, wanting to go over every statement with a fine-tooth comb. Lisbon is about to tell him that she'll stay and take care of it, when Jane hurriedly cuts in.

"Oh, come now, Lisbon. Rigsby's big boy. Really, big, actually." They hear Rigsby's disapproving snort on the other end. "He can handle the paper work here. Besides, I'm sure Internal Affairs is already in Hightower's office, wanting the details." He looks at Lisbon, in full charm mode, "You and I should probably start heading back. You can handle this, right, Rigsby?"

Lisbon's about to refuse when her agent's voice comes over the line, awkwardly. "Oh, uh…yeah boss. No worries. I got this."

"Are you sure, Rigsby?" Jane's up to something, but he's probably right. Hightower is probably about to start calling, wanting a progress report or to inform her that IA is posted up in her office. Fun times.

Rigsby assures her he's okay, and Lisbon hangs up. "Probably right, "she says wearily. "If we start back now, we can be back in Sacramento by midnight." She isn't looking forward to a late evening drive.

"Excellent." Jane says, clapping his hands together. "Don't worry, I'll keep you awake, Lisbon. We can play twenty questions!"

Lisbon's pulling out onto the highway, the vestiges of a headache forming already. "No, Jane."

"C'mon, I've got some great questions in mind."

Lisbon can imagine playing twenty questions with Jane is like gulag interrogation. Given their recent conversations, she can guess where his imagination would lead him. She cringes.

"Maybe a game of Eye Spy? We really should keep some travel games in the vans for these long call-outs, Lisbon. Chess, Yahtzee, Bingo. It would make the time fly." Jane rummages around in the side pockets in the center console. "Oh look, a crossword book! Cho must have left it. Quick, give me a four letter word for "problem."

"J-A-N-E"

Jane scowls, cocking a brow at her. "No, that doesn't fit…."

Lisbon sighs, her head leans against the headrest, and she sets the cruise control. It's going to be a long drive.

 **END**

**Author's Note:**

> I might consider a second part to this, tackling the ride home from Jane's POV. Let me know what you think! READ and REVIEW!


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